Forgetful Jones

Um, so I am really, really forgetful. When I was a little girl, my mom called me Forgetful Jones, the character from Sesame Street:

But I'm starting to think that Ben might actually be more forgetful than I am.

A few weeks ago, Ben went grocery shopping. He took his calculator with him, as usual, but when he got to the store, he couldn't find it anywhere. So he sighed and added up our groceries with a pen on the back of the grocery list I had made him. I found his calculator three days later:

Where did I find it? On the top of our car, where he had put it when he was putting Micah in his car seat before his shopping trip, three days before:

I can't believe it stayed put for so long! We drove clear to Heise and back!! I had gone to Albertson's in it (to pick up a prescription), and the driveway in and out of Alby's is very deep and jostling. All of us get flung around inside the car when we enter and leave the parking lot. But that calculator stayed put. And it got rained on. So now the calculator is broken, obviously!

A few days ago, Ben swept in the kitten closet. The next day, I needed to sweep my bathroom, and I couldn't find the dustpan anywhere! The broom was where it usually is, but no dustpan. I called Ben, and he swore up and down that he put it next to the broom, where it belongs. I was like, whatever. It will turn up soon.

I often have to put my garbage can up on the counter in the kitchen, because Micah is now into digging in the garbage (My favorite phase. Not.):

One day, the garbage can tipped over, spilling garbage all over the kitchen floor. I sighed and started cleaning up the mess, and there was the dustpan. It had been thrown in the garbage, than covered up with other garbage that people had thrown in without looking. It had been deep in there! Ben had absentmindedly thrown the dustpan away. And yes, I know that picture of my dustpan is gross. I do need to clean it.

I made a Mexican meal about a week ago, and I was planning on having us eat it again, as leftovers, but the next night, I couldn't find some of the bowls of stuff needed for the meal. I guessed that Ben had taken the food with him to eat for lunch and didn't think anything else of it. Then, last Friday night, I was making dinner again, and I planned to heat up some eggrolls in the oven. I preheated the oven, and when I opened it to put the eggrolls in, this is what I saw:

Ben had heated up some Mexican food in the oven a few days earlier, dished up his meal, then absentmindedly put it back in the oven instead of into the fridge. And it sat there clear until I found it.

And yes, I need to clean my oven, too.

We really are quite the pair. Between the two of us, it's a wonder we can even function. :)